Two is Better Than One
by SassyGeminiMom
Summary: Whitney and Edward met at a motorcycle rally and made an instant connection, but parted w/o exchanging numbers. 5 years later will they meet again at the same rally? Written for Support Stacie Author Auction. Rated M for lang and lemons. Edward x OC


_**A/N:**_

_**Two is Better than One**_ by SassyGeminiMom written for Beautiful Distraction for the benefit of the Support Stacie author auction.

This one is for you, Beautiful. Thanks for supporting Stacie, but most of all thank you for supporting me. I'm one lucky girl to be owned by you!

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters that may appear in this story. All publicly recognizable characters, real persons, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Copyright 2009 SassyGeminiMom. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

"Will you stop fidgeting?" Tammy pleaded from behind the wheel.

"I can't help it! I have nervous energy," Whitney replied, still tapping her foot on the floor board of the 2002 Chevy Impala.

Four women, Tammy and Whitney included, along with their roommates, Jess and Linda, were headed to Milwaukee's Summerfest grounds for Harley Davidson's 105th anniversary celebration.

"Well try. It's hard enough navigating through these narrow and crowded streets without you screaming every time you see a blue motorcycle, which is like every fucking fifteen feet. My nerves are shot."

"I'm sorry, T, really I am." Whitney then pounded on the dashboard causing everyone in the car to jump. "Aaaarrrrgggg!"

She was about to let into Whitney again, when Jess interjected. "Don't worry about Tammy, E; 'road rage' is her middle name." Both Jess and Linda laughed in the back seat.

She glared back at Jess through the rearview mirror contemplating her comeback, but never found one. The girls' playful banter was one of the things she loved the most about their friendship. Besides, what Jess had said was true enough.

She'd met each of the women sitting in her car at a University of Wisconsin System Leadership conference for residence hall advisors. She'd represented UW Oshkosh, Whitney, UW LaCrosse, Jess, UW Madison and Linda, UW Milwaukee. Their friendship was instant and stayed true despite the long distances and impending graduation. She and Whitney had moved to Milwaukee and shared a house with Linda until Jess finished nursing school at Madison and joined them. They had been living together for the past five years. She'd admit that like any household full of women that they'd had their moments, but in the end, they were the best friends she'd ever had.

She deftly navigated the streets leading to Summerfest without further incident while Whitney blasted 80's hair metal through the radio from her iPod. The four of them had been crooning at the top of their lungs "she's my cherry pie" when they finally reached the parking grounds. She handed the attendant their parking pass and followed the parade of cars in the lot. She parked next to the car that was in front of her and shut off the engine.

The girls were brimming with excitement and Jess, the organized one, took control immediately. "No purses. All of your money goes in the zipped coin purse and that goes in your pocket. Make sure you take your I.D. I made copies of the car key for everyone; make sure you have your house key, too. Hmm, anything else?"

"Don't forget cell phones, Mom," Whitney quipped.

"Smartass," Jess replied.

Laughing, the four of them headed arm in arm towards the main gates of the fairgrounds. The place was packed, end to end with people of all types dressed from head to toe in black and orange. Leather clothing abounded.

***

She hadn't really expected to find him. There were over one hundred thousand people, all dressed similar and here she was looking for one man and all she knew was that his first name was Edward.

The celebration was completely awesome. She laughed inwardly about how many people would run at the sight of all these tough bikers, the majority of who were just everyday nice people. You never knew if you were meeting a doctor, a lawyer or a welder. The only thing that Hog owners had in common, really, was that the bikes were expensive and so whoever you were meeting had to have the means to buy one.

Being around the girls was great. Everyone's personality balanced out and they always looked out for each other. She noticed her friends looking out for her in particular today; out of the corner of their eyes, searching for her elusive secret midnight rider.

It was five years ago at the Harley Davidson 100th celebration. She had been with her friends then too, enjoying the celebration and the eye candy. It was later, past nine in the evening, and they all were gathered at the Miller Oasis, listening to the Bodeans play.

Slightly tipsy, she had excused herself to use the bathroom which wasn't far, although the path to it was blocked by the crowd. Upon exiting, a very large and very drunk biker inadvertently backed into her, knocking her over. More shoving ensued and soon she found herself lying on the ground, between two of the most enormous men she'd ever seen. They were going to fight and probably trample her in the process. She had tried to scramble away, but the circle of observers had closed in fast and she had nowhere to go. Just as the first punch was thrown, she was thrust up, by her armpits, and crushed against something solid and black that smelled like leather. Paralyzed with fear, she didn't struggle; she was just happy to be out of a situation going from bad to worse fast.

"Are you alright?" her savior asked.

She took a moment to gather her wits about her before looking up at whoever had pulled her out of the crowd. Shaken and still a little wobbly, the warmth of his body heat and the comforting smell of worn leather calmed her nerves. Raising her head slowly, she lifted her chin and looked into the eyes of Hell's Angel himself. He smiled, and she took notice that one corner of his soft, full lips was higher than the other, making his grin not only crooked, but wickedly sexy. She was mesmerized by the small dimple that appeared there.

"There you are," his melodic baritone voice soothed as he pushed back an errant strand of her hair from her face. "That was a close one."

His eyes sparkled and reflected the multitude of colors from the neon lights. He was still smiling at her, though it did not mask the concern present in his eyes. Laughing, he asked, "Do you often throw yourself on the ground in front of two drunk and angry bikers?"

It was that comment that had brought the past ten minutes back the present for her; the bathroom, the fall, the accidental push and the terrifying feeling that she was trapped.

"Ah . . . no, this was my first time." She realized then that her arms were wrapped tightly against his waist and that most of her body was pressed against his. Embarrassed, she began to back away only to have her traitorous knees buckle underneath her weight. Quickly his arms enveloped her again. They felt strong against her soft skin.

"Whoa, easy there; take a minute to steady yourself."

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm still a little shaky." _Hold me forever._

He led her away from the crowd, slowly, still supporting her, to a nearby bench. She sat tentatively and watched as his long legs straddled the bench next to her. "Take a minute. When you're ready, want to tell me what happened back there?"

She could see him clearly now. He was wearing faded blue jeans that were tattered and frayed at the hem. Beneath them were the hard, black leather boots that seemed requisite of all bike riders, including the silver buckle at the ankle. Her eyes travelled upwards past the simple black belt and back to the torso she had been pressed against. He was wearing some type of commemorative t-shirt in black and orange; to this day, she couldn't remember what was on it. He wore a black leather jacket with silver buckles and zippers over it all. Though he was dressed as a biker, she could tell that he wasn't one.

She met his eyes once more and once more felt hypnotized by them. His chiseled jaw sported just a bit of five o'clock stubble. She couldn't tell the exact color of his eyes in the dark, but their gaze was penetrating. His hair was unkempt, but not because he was sloppy, but more because it just did whatever it wanted to and he accepted it. She couldn't call him handsome, or hot; he was more than that. He was holy-fucking-shit-hot.

"Um . . . I tripped." she simply stated.

He smiled again and lightly chuckled. "Were you hurt?" The concern was back.

"No," she said while shaking her head. "But I did bump into that really big bald guy, and I guess his beer spilled, but he didn't see it was me because I was on the ground by then so he blamed the other big bald guy behind him and then they started talking shit. I tried to get out of the way, but a crowd had formed, and I couldn't scramble away and those two were seriously intent on pounding each others' faces in, most likely trampling me in the process. And then . . . then you saved me. Thank you."

"Well, I'd say I couldn't believe that no one was going to help you, but that wouldn't be true. For the most part, Harley riders are pretty well behaved, but you get a couple of hotheads, some beer – okay lots of beer, a misunderstanding and well . . . boys will be boys. Are you sure you're okay?" The smile reached his eyes now and she felt her knees go weak again. _Ungh, I want to lick you. Where did that come from?_

"Yeah, I'm fine, just embarrassed I guess. I'm Whitney. Thanks for helping me . . ."

"Edward." Hell's Angel was named Edward.

". . . Edward. Not everyone would have stepped in like that."

"How could I resist rescuing a damsel in distress?" he chuckled.

"How can I thank you my knight in leather and chains?" _Were we flirting?_

"Do you ride?"

She was briefly taken by the change in topic. "No, my friends and I just wanted to come for the party." _And look for hot guys and look – I found one._

"Want to go for a ride? That is, if your friends wouldn't worry about you."

Her body hummed with excitement. "Yes . . . and no." He frowned. "I mean, yes, I would love to go for a ride, and no, my friends won't worry. I'll send them a text message."

"Well, then, in that case, follow me. Your chariot awaits."

They had ridden in the cool night air all through Milwaukee proper including the Menomonee Valley, past Pottawatomi Casino, the Third Ward and all its microbreweries and the Lakefront where they had spent not enough time looking out over Lake Michigan, talking, laughing and making out like teenagers.

It had been a frantic text message from her friends wondering where she was, that she realized they had been gone for three hours and that it was well past midnight. Edward had taken her back to the fairgrounds where she found her friends waiting anxiously by the car. Showing no shame, she and Edward had parted ways with a long, heated kiss while her friends whistled and jeered behind her.

It hadn't been until they were almost home that she had realized she'd forgotten to get his last name or phone number.

They were back at the Miller Oasis again, at her request. It was silly, she knew, but her last hope had been to go back to the scene of the crime, as it were. And her friends, as wonderful as they were, didn't argue, just followed and silently wished with her that Edward would be there. So at 9:16pm she found herself again, outside of the same bathrooms, wearing the same outfit, looking for the same man who rocked her world five years ago.

***

He looked at his watch for what seemed like the millionth time. He had been riding to the Summerfest grounds; he'd taken this day off the minute it was announced. The accident had been an inconvenience at first, until he'd heard the woman screaming for her son. He'd found out later that the seatbelt holding the booster seat her five year old son was in had failed and he had been thrown from the car. Compelled, he parked his bike on the side of the road, called 911 and went to help the frantic woman. He'd found the boy, severely injured and had attended him best he could without any medical supplies. He'd demanded to know where the ambulance was taking him and when it was his own hospital, he knew he would follow it. Summerfest would have to wait.

For five years he had kicked himself in the ass wondering why he'd never asked for her number. The whole night had been surreal; it had never occurred to him as she rode off that he'd never see her again.

Whitney.

He knew she worked in banking, but didn't know which bank. He knew she liked to run by the lakefront, but he didn't know when or where she ran. He had spent entire days off scoping out different places they had ridden on his bike, hoping, praying that she'd run by to no avail. He knew that when she laughed, her eyes lit up like shooting stars. Most importantly, he knew, and repeatedly fantasized, about the way her lips molded against his and the how the hot, sweet flavor of her tongue lingered when the kiss was over.

"Dr. Cullen? Doctor?" he noticed a nurse trying to get his attention.

"Yes, Jane, can I help you?" He looked at his watch again; it was 9:20pm. He was already too late.

"The boy you saved, the one from the car accident tonight . . . he's come out of surgery." She looked neither happy nor sad about the news.

"How is he?"

"They were able to repair all of the internal damage and stop the bleeding. He's lost a lot of blood, but they think . . . they think if he can make it though the next forty-eight hours he's going to be ok." Now there was relief in her eyes.

"Thank you, Jane, for checking on him for me." It was now 9:22pm.

"If you don't mind me asking, you look like you're late for something, Dr. Cullen?"

"Is it that obvious?" I lightly chuckled. "Actually I'm too late."

"I'm sorry you missed whatever it was you were going to do on your day off, Doctor." Jane was one of the most compassionate nurses on the floor.

"I'm not. If I hadn't come upon the accident when I did, and hadn't stopped, that boy might not have made it. The ambulance had been hung up and would not have made it in time. That poor woman had already lost her husband this night, I was not about to let her lose the other man in her life if I could help it." And so Whitney would have to wait.

"The world needs more good Samaritans like you, Dr. Cullen. Enjoy the rest of your night." Jane turned, and headed back to the nurse's station.

He checked his watch one last time before leaving the hospital. It was 9:30pm. By the time he got to the grounds it would be after ten. She wouldn't have waited, if she'd even thought to go back to the bathrooms at the Miller Oasis, that long for him. His heart sank as he walked out the door to his blue Harley Davidson motorcycle.

As he straddled his bike, his phone vibrated.

_Leaving grounds 4 Brady Street. You comin'?_

He might as well. His night was already shit and he really needed a drink.

***

They found her sitting on the bench, just yards from the bathrooms where they knew it had all gone down. She was absentmindedly picking at the hem of her t-shirt; her eyes darting around nervously the area around her.

The late August night had cooled significantly, but she hadn't even realized she was shivering. Jess sat to her left and Linda to her right, each of them engulfing her in their arms. Tammy stood behind her gently patting her hair.

"He's not coming." Whitney needed to say it out loud – to hear the finality of it.

She turned to look at them, her three besties, surrounding her with love and compassion on their faces. Seeing them, knowing that they would hold her up the minute she fell, she let herself go, let the unshed tears fall with abandon. Just as she knew they would hold her all the way back to the car.

***

Tammy meandered the car through the still packed parking lot and back onto the Milwaukee streets. It was slow going, but not as tenuous as the ride in. The atmosphere in the car was different this time; solemn. She didn't know what to do for her friend; how to stop her hurting. They had all tried to help her find the elusive Edward shortly after they'd met.

Whitney had told them that Edward was a doctor, but she didn't know in which hospital he worked. She'd told them he liked to listen to Blues music, but they'd been to the major clubs numerous times and never once saw him. And she had told them, countless times, that when he kissed her, her toes curled and her heart melted.

The silence was deafening in the sedan as they reached the outskirts of downtown and headed for home.

"Wait!" Whitney had whispered from her coma-like state. She'd reached over and touched Tammy's arm. "Wait."

Concerned, Tammy replied, "Are you ok, sweetie?"

Whitney shook her head unconvincingly and continued, "You wanted to hit Brady Street. We can't go home yet."

"B, I'll be fine. Why don't we all go home, pop some popcorn and watch movies or something. Really, it's ok." She continued to drive toward home.

"No, I'll be fine. Guys, this only happens every five years and, yes, I'm sad. I met a wonderful man and had a wonderful night . . . a night I'll never forget. And yes, I really wanted to see him again, but it's okay. I'll be okay, but I'm not ready for the night to end. In fact, I could really use a drink." Whitney smiled and Tammy knew that her friend would, indeed, be okay, someday, but for tonight, they would drink.

***

Brady Street was crowded, worse than the streets leading to the fairgrounds, and was completely blocked off by the police. Tammy was sure that they would get a parking spot, about ten miles away. Navigating was difficult at best, which only led to an even tenser situation in the Impala.

"Mother puss bucket! I fucking hate the East Side," she roared as she tried to figure out how to maneuver the mid-sized sedan through a tenuous Y-turn to back out of an illegally blocked side street.

"Tammy, just forget it. This is nuts," Linda chimed in.

"Oh hell to the no! We're here now and I'll be damned if we're not getting a drink after this . . . c'mon baby . . . that's a good boy," Tammy soothed to the dashboard.

"She's talking to the car, Linda, the rage is bad. Back away while you still have your digits," Jess snickered.

"You want rage, Jess? I'll show you some fucking rage when we get out of this God forsaken clusterfuck!"  
Jess leaned forward and talked in hushed tones, "I can't wait for you to show me what you got, baby."

The girls giggled. "You're such a perv," Tammy added.

"Yeah, well you started it, sister," Jess finished.

She promised her friends that she would make a few more passes and if nothing promising appeared, they would turn around and end the evening at home. As luck would have it, the smallest of spots was available, just a few short blocks from Brady Street and somehow she managed to parallel park the car with mere inches to spare.

The girls headed to The Up & Under Pub, one of their favorite blues places. They'd been there countless times looking for Edward. Navigating the crowd wasn't easy; the sidewalks and street itself were no less crowded than the fairgrounds. In fact it seemed even more so as each bar and restaurant was also packed to capacity.

"Holy shit! I swear there are a million people here!" Linda mused.

"Yeah, well, we better start workin' it girls, if we even want to get close to a bar," Tammy complained.

"You heard the woman! Get your sexy on!" Jess proclaimed.

The club was obviously packed to and probably beyond its limits. Sweaty bodies were crushed against each other and weeding through the masses was an experience in itself. The deafening tones of the band currently playing, accompanied by the crooning of its lead singer created an intense atmosphere.

The girls meandered their way to the bar and even managed to order drinks. Turning, they scanned the crowd before them, contemplating their next move. Every table was packed, every chair occupied. They had forged a small piece of real estate at the bar and were content, for now, to just listen to the music and people watch.

Several people – both men and women of various ages and degrees of biker – attire neared them as they, too, fought their way to the bar for some liquid refreshment.

Jess watched intently as a tall, blonde, cool drink of water sauntered his way toward them. His gait was predatory; the look in his eyes was fierce. As if forewarned, the crowd inadvertently parted to make a path for him. Jess thought she might have drooled just a bit.

He motioned the bartenders and waited patiently for their attention. He didn't need to wait long.

"A shot of Southern Comfort with a beer back," he ordered with an ironic southern drawl.

Jess couldn't help but stare. She knew she was being obvious, flagrant even, but she didn't care. The raw power and pure sex appeal that reverberated off the leather-clad god was magnetic . . . she couldn't _not_ stare at him.

As if he could hear her perverted thoughts, he turned slowly to her and smiled. Her knees bucked slightly from its radiance. She did one thing right, though . . . she somehow managed to smile back. The bartender took that moment to return with his drinks and she noticed the man's eyes take quick stock of her and her friends.

"Four more shots of Slo Co, please," he drawled, then turned back to her. "Hi, I'm Jasper."

She tried her best to control the shaking that was starting to feel like convulsions. "Hi, I'm Jess."

There wasn't much time for flirting when the bartender returned the second time. Jasper laid a large bill on the bar to pay for his order. "Will you and your friends join me in a shot?"

Jess inwardly jumped for joy. This night was starting to look up considerably. She turned around and tapped each of her friends to get their attention. They all introduced themselves to Jasper and the five of them saluted each other before swallowing the smooth, amber liquid.

"Would you ladies like to join me and my friends?" he asked the group.

Jess turned and pleaded silently with each of her friends to say yes. They all looked at her and smiled and she knew she'd get a little more time with Jasper. She turned back and noticed that his look had darkened; his gaze making a slow appreciative sweep up her frame. Was he checking out my ass? When his eyes met hers again, he smiled wickedly. "Coming?" Please, yes.

The girls followed Jasper back through the bar and its throng of patrons. They headed straight back, where a larger table occupied by two other men and several remarkably empty chairs. The two men rose as they approached and nodded their heads toward Jasper in that silent way men acknowledge each other.

"Guys . . . look what I found." Jasper chuckled slightly and the other two men followed suit. He turned to the tallest of the group. He was also blonde and heavily muscled as was evident under his tank top. When he smiled, deep dimples appeared in each corner of his cheeks. "Em, this is . . ." Linda pushed her way, literally, to the forefront and planted herself directly in front of the blonde Adonis.

"I'm, Linda." Everyone laughed.

Linda went to grab an empty chair, when 'Em' sat and patted his thigh. "I'm Emmett. I've got a spot right here for you."

Linda graciously slinked into his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Emmett." They then proceeded to ignore everyone else.

"Ok, then. That was both weird and awkward," Tammy noted as she smiled at Linda and her newly found bravado. She, Jess and Whitney all shared a look with each other. Linda never noticed.

From the side a baritone voice continued, "Well, it's hard to follow an offer like that with just a plain old chair, but if you'd rather sit in my lap as well, I wouldn't argue."

Jess watched as Tammy slowly turned to stare at the voice's owner. Slightly shorter than Emmett, but tall none the less, the man had a gentle face, with penetrating eyes and a sexy grin. Like his friends, he was dressed in black with accents of orange and silver. "I'm Carlisle, by the way."

Tammy reached out her hand to introduce herself when he slowly raised it to his lips and grazed the back of her knuckles. She breathlessly answered, "I'm Tammy," then proceeded to sit next to him.

Jess turned and apologetically looked at Whitney who, while physically with them, appeared to be miles away mentally. She placed her hand on Whitney's arm and rubbed softly. Whitney looked up absently at Jess. She wanted to turn and hug her friend and tell her that things would be ok, but she knew that they were just words. She knew Whitney would feign a good time while they sat with the men they just met. She felt helpless and silently wished for a miracle.

Jasper spoke up. "We're waiting for one more. He should be on his way to meet us here. He was sidetracked at work." He pulled out a chair for Whiney who took it silently and one for Jess. No sooner than having just sat, Whitney got up and started off.

"Where are you going?" Jess whispered as quiet as she could while still being heard.

"I just need some air and something to drink. I'll be fine before you start worrying . . . really." Jess looked skeptically at her. "Maybe when I come back, guy number four will be here and we can all drink and talk."

"Fifteen minutes and I'm coming after you," Jess mandated.

"Yes, mom," then she turned to leave.

Tammy looked at Jess and mouthed 'is she okay.' Jess nodded but silently wondered if she had told the truth.

Whitney absentmindedly worked her way back through the crowd to the front door of the club. She had suddenly felt claustrophobic; suffocated by those surrounding her. She wanted her friends to be happy, to have a good time, but it hurt a little too much to not be part of a pair in the group. She knew their intentions were good, figured that the friend they were waiting for was probably nice and maybe even good looking as the rest of them were, but she didn't care. She had hoped so hard that she would find Edward her heart just couldn't reconcile that fate deemed otherwise. The more she thought about it, Fate was a bitch, and by the time she'd reached the front door to the bar, she was ready to kick her ass.

Distracted by her thoughts, she forgot to adjust for the brightly painted, though much lower first step and found herself sprawled, yet again, on the ground, hands and knees scraped from the cement sidewalk. Assuming she was drunk, or just not wanting to get involved at all, several people walked by and stared as fat tears fell from her eyes.

"Fucking dammit all to hell!" she screamed in frustration. She sat back on her heels noting the rip in both her knees and the scrapes and small droplets of blood on both her knees and palms. Resolved that the bitch Fate was going to win this battle, she let herself cry just a moment longer before getting up and getting over her crappy night. As she began to stand, a hand and arm, encased in black leather appeared in her vision. Her heart skipped a beat. Black boots entered her line of sight next, covered by faded blue jeans. Her heart skipped another. Slowly, holding her breath, her eyes traveled upward, and were met victoriously with the smile that had haunted her dreams for the past five years.

Frozen, she could only stare in wonder. _It couldn't be?_ His eyes shone with concern, his cheeks still flushed from the wind against them, his hair was disheveled from not only his helmet, but of its own accord. He too, she noted, wore the exact same outfit from their first meeting.

Hand still outstretched, he whispered, "Whitney?" Her heart stopped completely.

"Edward?" He smiled and still she almost didn't believe.

"Can I help you up, sweetie?" Oh God! She had fallen at his feet, again.

Grabbing his hand she absently muttered, "Why am I always on my hands and knees every time we meet?" She stood slowly and was met with a puzzled expression on his face that quickly turned into something more devious. "Oh no, I did _not_ say that out loud, did I?" Embarrassed, she blushed.

"I'm not complaining," he flirted, "although I like it more when you're in my arms." With a fluid motion he pressed her against him and kissed her, with wanton abandon, in front of everyone.

It was that sight, of her and Edward wrapped in each other's arms, lips melded against each other, that their friends were greeted with as they exited the bar.

"Way to go, Eddie!" Emmett bellowed.

"Omigod, Omigod, Omigod!" Jess chanted.

Whitney tried to turn around, but Edward's arms remained locked at her back. He whispered in her ear, "I'm never letting you go this time." Completely done for, but needing to talk to her friends she wiggled around to face them, all the while his fingers never leaving her body. It was both glorious and distracting.

"Hey, girls . . . what's going on?"

Tammy answered, "You said you'd be back in fifteen minutes. It's been over thirty, so we came to make sure you were all right." Whitney noticed that Tammy's hand was entwined with Carlisle's. In fact, all of her friends were in some way connected physically with the men from the bar. She smiled. Inwardly she hoped and said a little prayer that things would work out for them.

"I see you met my friends," Edward said.

All of the girls, including Whitney, looked puzzled for a moment before they deduced that the 'fourth' of the group was Edward.

"Glad you could make it, Edward," Carlisle stated and reached his hand out to shake Edward's.

Edward put his out as well, leaving the other firmly planted on Whitney's waist. She smiled at the gesture. "Me, too. Looks like things worked out after all."

This time is was Jasper who spoke. "Well, we six were going to go for a ride after you arrived and since you're here now we'll be going if you don't mind."

"We'll be fine. Have fun you guys."

Each woman gave Whitney a hug, whispering congratulations and quiet squeals of joy for their friend before departing. They all noted that Edward had not stopped touching her. As they turned to leave, Tammy stopped, panicked.

"Wait!" Tammy headed back to the pair who looked quizzically at her. "Edward, what is your last name?"

"Tammy, really, it's okay. I'll get it," Whitney chided.

"Nope, not going to chance it this time. Please, Edward."

He smiled and chuckled. "It's Cullen."

Tammy typed it into her cell phone. "And your number?"

Whitney shot an annoyed look at her and Edward just laughed harder, spouting off the seven digits which Tammy also added to her phone. "Thank you, Edward," Tammy sneered at Whitney. "As you were," she giggled, and then returned quickly to Carlisle who was already straddling a sleek, shiny black motorcycle with gold accents. After she hopped behind him and laced her fingers around his lean torso, the three pairs of friends rumbled off into the night.

Edward twisted Whitney to face him and kissed her fiercely again, gaining a few cat calls in response from onlookers. "Alone . . . at last. Just you, me and several thousand strangers."

Whitney looked down a moment, then back into his eyes, which again appeared multi-colored with the reflections of the surrounding neon lights. "I . . . I can't believe that you're really here. I had given up hope of ever finding you again. These past five years -" He stopped her with a finger to her lips.

"Shhh . . . they're in the past and I don't want to talk about them. What matters is tonight." He rested his forehead against hers and sighed. "Wanna go for a ride?"

Forehead to forehead, she could feel the warm heat from his skin against hers. She felt safe and grounded; something she hadn't known in five years. How could this one man and a few hours under the stars have captured her so? "I would go anywhere with you," she whispered.

He led her arm in arm to the familiar black and blue Harley, walking slow to accommodate for her sore knees. When they reached the bike, he put his hands around her waist and lifted her sideways onto the seat. Opening one of the saddle bags, he pulled out a small first aid kid and tended to her wounds. The antiseptic wipes stung and so he followed each wince with a delicate kiss. After he'd bandaged her knees, he moved to her palms, treating them the same, adding more delicate kisses to her scraps and scratches. She was touched by his bedside manner and then assaulted with dirty fantasies involving a white lab coat and stethoscope.

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen. You've been quite thorough." She smiled warmly as he put his supplies away and rose to meet her.

"Anything to get my lips on your skin, though I would prefer if you wouldn't keep hurting yourself." He handed her two small pills for the pain and a small bottle of water to swallow them. After she'd taken the meds, he kissed her on the head and then settled himself on the bike. She breathed in the earthy smell of the leather as she rested her head against his back. When she wrapped her hands around his waist, she snaked them under the hem of his t-shirt and felt him shudder. She knew he was built; she'd had her hands on him once before, but feeling his taut abs beneath her fingertips again sent shocks straight through her arms to the part of her that ached for him the most.

They drove through the cooling summer night, much along the same path that they rode the last time. She loved riding along Lake Drive and ogling all of the mansions that littered the shoreline. While she enjoyed thoroughly being pressed up against Edward, they couldn't really talk like this and the most definitely couldn't do anything else.

He wound the bike along the semi-busy street until the streetlights began to fade as they neared the bluffs. The house just before the bluffs had always been her favorite; beautiful with old charm, not overly massive in expanse, regal and against the bluffs silhouetted by the moonlight, utterly breathtaking.

Edward deftly navigated the rickety pathway until they could go no further, then dismounted, helping her dismount as well.

"It's so beautiful here, this is my favorite place. Once in awhile, I sneak up here to think things out, hoping and praying that the owner of this house doesn't call the cops on me. So far, so good."

"Well, I'm pretty sure the owner won't mind. I'm pretty well acquainted with him," he smirked and she noted that the crooked smile was back. He grabbed the blanket that was rolled and fastened behind the bike and held out his hand. "Come on, I want to show you something."

She put her hand in his and reveled in the shocks she was now prepared for. This one man had moved her in such a way unlike no one before him . . . and well, she couldn't bring herself to find someone after him.

He led her to the cliffs to a small clearing surrounded by trees and rock outcroppings. She stood, stunned at the scene before her.

"My God, it's so beautiful," she whispered, afraid to disturb even the smallest particle of air around them.

He turned and walked back to her, taking her face into his hands. "Not nearly as beautiful as you, silhouetted by the moonlight." He kissed her forehead, then her eyelids, her cheeks, a soft peck on her nose, and a nibble on her chin before capturing her lips with his own while his tongue stroked hers in unison. "Stay. Right. Here."

He moved away and set the blanket on the grassy part of the bluff. She smiled and giggled a little as he tested the softness with his hands. He returned to her, strutting like a predator. She could instantly feel the change in the atmosphere around them and it wasn't just from the moistness soaking her panties. Much to her surprise, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the blanket, unceremoniously sitting down with a large 'plunk' while she landed in his lap. She squealed in surprise.

"Sorry, that wasn't very gallant," he apologized.

"It got me in your arms, so I'm not complaining," she returned.

Their kisses began slowly and methodically joined by gentle explorations of each others' bodies. Edward shifted her from his lap onto the blanket, lying off to the side so as to not crush her, but close enough to feel her hip bone rub against his straining erection. He was sure he could cut diamonds with the damn thing by now. She moaned more loudly when he drew her t-shirt up over her head and hungrily lapped at her taut nipple through the black lace of her bra. Her hands pulled at his hair and she arched her back in encouragement.

Too soon, he stopped and leaned back to stare at her.

"You're so damn beautiful, Whitney. How I survived these past five years without you is beyond me. The moonlight against your alabaster skin makes you glow and I can see the stars sparkling in your eyes. It's all I can to keep myself from fucking you like a wild animal."

"So don't, Edward," she purred.

Confused, his eyebrows came together and his forehead creased. She logged to kiss him there. "Don't what, baby?"

"Don't stop yourself anymore," she barely articulated as she wrapped her hand around his groin.

Hissing from the pain of too much pent up sexual tension, he shifted his weight onto her fully, spreading her legs with his knees, purposely grinding the piece of granite between his legs into her so she could feel how badly he wanted her then stifled his own growls by kissing her hard.

Easing up a bit, he peppered her neck with nips and sucks, biting gently on her lobe, murmuring incoherent words layered with occasional curses as he fumbled with the front closure of her bra. Frustrated he growled, "What guy hasn't learned to undo one of these things with one hand in high school? Where was this thing made, Fort Knox?"

Whitney released her arms from his back and brought them to her breasts. She massaged them suggestively, then squeezed them together while teasing with the clasp.

"Woman, I swear I'll rip that thing off you if you're not careful." Edward's eyes looked black in the darkness; shrouded with passion and need.

She deftly undid the clasp and separated the halves slowly. She wasn't embarrassed or self conscious in the least. She felt powerful baring herself to Edward, bringing his need to an even higher level.

He expelled a curse from his lips before they met the mounded flesh. His hands were rough and glorious as he kneaded and pinched, caressed and kissed. She tried to focus her mind but it was near impossible with his magical tongue doing the things it was doing. Before long, she felt her stomach muscles tense while she actively rubbed herself against him. The friction along with his ministrations was enough to send her over the edge unexpectedly, and she came with a cry against his lips.

She was breathing heavily when he started his way down her torso. He paid special attention to the tattoos decorating her body; tracing each and every outline with his tongue. Scrambling, she grasped at his shirt, whimpering as the cool breeze brought goose bumps to each newly moistened area of her flesh. She needed to feel him against her; needed to feel if he was as hot as she was, as she pulled his shirt over his head. The minute they were flesh to flesh, she sighed and let her fingers roam over the rough planes of his muscled torso.

She arched again when his tongue dipped into her navel and flushed all over when his nimble fingers reached for the button of her jeans. As the button gave way, he kissed the newly exposed skin and then drew the zipper down with his teeth while looking at her with hungry eyes. She bit her lip and hissed when he nuzzled the matching triangle of black lace, then inhaled her desire for him.

"So fucking hot . . . too fucking long," he growled then slid her jeans and underwear together down to her boots which he removed just as quickly leaving her exposed under the moon and stars before him.

She stared at him through hooded eyes as he stood and stripped for her, stopping only to remove something from his pocket. He was gorgeous surrounded by the silver moonlight. She admired the hard planes of his chest; the way his lungs expanded and contacted with each heavy breath he took. His broad shoulders led to narrow hips and muscular thighs that she longed to straddle. She bit her lip when she saw the tribal markings on the front of his left hip that snaked around to his back. She wanted to lick there; to nibble and mark him herself. He opened the small square package he'd removed from his pocket and unwrapped the condom. Confidently, he sheathed himself, letting his head fall back as he added a few extra strokes. Feeling suddenly shy, but unable to keep her eyes off his body, her gaze lingered over his belly, to the narrow 'v' at the end of his torso and to the soft trail of fine hairs which began just beneath his belly button and led to his hands stroking his impossibly hard sex. She rubbed her legs together in response to his very apparent arousal for her.

He smiled then, sending reassurance through her as he settled himself between her legs again. Taking her face into his hands he kissed her with ferocity. He tasted her, fed his hunger from her mouth. She could feel the heat building between them as he stroked himself against her. She'd never known want so strong, it made her cry out, "Oh, God . . . Edward!" She reached between them and guided his heavy cock to wetness, pleading, "Please."

"Baby, I don't know . . . it's been a long time," he confessed as he slid himself into her and sighed.

She took him in, then froze and just felt him fill her; felt her body recognize his, then moaned in acceptance. "Just fuck me, Edward," she grunted while thrusting her hips into his.

He hovered above her, the muscles in his arms straining and shaking as he began to pound into her. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers down the length of his back, cupping his ass to drive him even deeper. She listened to the sounds of their panting, his subtle little groans each time he was sheathed within her, and the occasional slap of skin against skin.

His grunting became louder, less controlled, then he grabbed her hips and stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong, Edward?"

"Nothing," he barely articulated through the heavy pants. "We need to switch or I'm not going to make it," he managed to say with a sexy smirk on his face.

She giggled with him then felt the emptiness of loss when he withdrew from her. He rolled to his back and she straddled his hips, not wasting time as she impaled herself on him. Instantly the loss was gone. She rocked her hips and set a slower rhythm as she rose up and wound her hands in her hair. The night air cooled the sweat the lingered on her skin, sending erotic shivers over her entire body, causing her clench down around his shaft.

He looked up at her as she made love to him. Her eyes were closed, her hands entwined in her hair, her full breasts thrust forward and swaying with her rhythmic movements. She looked glorious, heavenly, like some kind of nymph or succubus here to claim his soul. He'd willingly give it to her; had already in fact, the moment she fell at his feet for the second time in his life.

He knew he wouldn't last long. There hadn't been another in over five years since they hadn't gotten this far the first time. He hadn't even realized he was being celibate; he just hadn't wanted anyone else since her. He was already fighting the ever growing tightening in his balls when he reached forward run his hands over her hips, up her belly and cupped her full breasts.

Her eyes opened and she looked at him with raw, wild passion and desire; desire for him. He moved his fingers between them; she was so very wet for him and she cried out when he pinched her engorged clit. She was riding him hard, hands braced on his pecs when he exploded inside her on a wave on incoherent grunts ending with her name spilling from her lips.

Not missing a beat, she remained impossibly tight around him. She moved her hands to the blanket at his side and ground wildly against him. Her moans and cries came quicker so he picked up the pace of his ministrations between her legs. Flapping against his chest, he brought one of her puckered nipples to his lips and bit and sucked until she began to convulse. She screamed his name and collapsed against his chest, panting from exertion.

Edward ran his hand through her tousled hair and soothed her through the aftershocks. "Shh. God, Whitney, you're incredible," he crooned. He felt her smile against his chest before she picked her head up and looked at him.

"You're the incredible one, Edward. Shit." She brought her head back to his chest.

_I will not cry, dammit!_ _Not here, not after all the things I'd been though tonight, I would _not_ cry._ Alas, the tears would not stop, but Whitney was determined that he would not see them. So, she did the next best thing. She brought her lips to his chest and kissed, letting her tongue encircle his nipple which drew an appropriate gasp and created the distraction she needed.

She let my hands and mouth roam randomly across his torso, using her teeth here and there to tease. Her tears were quickly replaced with renewed desire as she made her way down, tracing the outline of each defined abdominal muscle. Lower still, she nipped at the sensitive flesh just below his belly button and felt his semi-soft dick twitch beneath her. "Mmmmm."

She let her tongue trace his happy trail before placing a chaste kiss on the head of his shaft. His hips jerked and this time it was he who was covered in goose bumps.

Slowly, but surely, she licked around his now hardened member, reveling in the combined taste of their sex.

"What are you doing? You're going to kill -" he cursed.

She engulfed him fully, effectively cleaning away their previous love making. Giving one last hard suck at the top and giving his sex one last kiss, she then licked her way back up his torso ending in a heated exchange of their tongues.

"Wicked," he murmured against my lips. "Why don't we take this to a bed?" he asked.

"I live too far away," Whitney whined while sucking on his earlobe.

"Yes, love, but I don't.

She began to rub her sensitive peaks against his and purred, "Unless you live in the house next door, you live too far. I need you."

He snorted. "Then you're in luck, because I do happen to live next door."

Whitney looked at Edward in disbelief. She could not have been coming here the past five years to think of him not knowing he was near all along. She looked into his eyes and saw the truth and almost lost it right there with the knowledge of all wasted time.

"I know, sweetie. I couldn't believe it either when you said you came here to think. We were so close, and yet so far. Come; let me love you in my bed."

***

He'd driven her home on his bike late the next morning after a night of love making. They'd collapsed exhausted in each other's arms. Over breakfast they began to catch on the past and the things they'd missed while apart.

She'd reluctantly agreed to go home only after he told her about the accident and the little boy he desperately needed to check on. He'd suggested she take a shower and gossip with her friends, but they settled for a shower together and a little less gossip time.

She saw Tammy's car in the driveway and wondered how her friends had ended their nights. After a long languorous kissing session on his bike, Edward left for the hospital and Whitney headed for her front door. She was surprised to find the house quiet, thinking that at least Linda would be awake as she was the morning person of the group.

She smiled as she neared the kitchen and heard the familiar sounds and smells of someone making coffee. However, when she turned the corner, she wasn't prepared for what she saw. Coffee was being made, but not by any of her roommates. She wasn't sure who it was, and the bare sculpted back and low slung jeans only told her that one of her friends had not come home alone.

Down the hall a door opened and Tammy emerged, freshly showered, dressed in capris and a t-shirt while still towel drying her hair. Their eyes met at the same time the mystery man, who must have been Carlisle turned around to greet them. His appreciative smile directed at Tammy alone did not go unnoticed by Whitney and she shot a smug look in the direction of her friend.

"What? Don't give me that look. At least I came home. I can't say the same for any of you," Tammy scolded. Then she stepped into Carlisle's arms and kissed him good morning in such a way that Whitney felt obliged to look away.

"No one else is here?" she asked just moments before they heard the door close again.

Jess was humming as she entered the kitchen. "Hey, kids." She grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge and plopped herself down at the kitchen table. "Where's Edward?"

"He had to go to the hospital for a bit. Are you ok?" Whitney asked.

"Hell yes. Just wanted to come home to change clothes and check in. Where's Linda?"

Just then the four of them turned their heads in unison to a strange knocking noise coming from the back of the house.

Whitney gasped. "You don't think?"

Tammy answered, "Hey, don't look at me. I didn't see any bikes here when we arrived, all the lights were off, or at least the ones visible from the street and well, I was . . . distracted some, I guess."

As Jess opened the door to the garage to see if there was a motorcycle parked in there, loud distinctive moans could be heard from the direction of Linda's room.

Whitney laughed. "Oh, my, God."

Carlisle joked, "I think that's her line."

They all laughed hysterically until all sound ceased from that direction.

A few moments later, a disheveled Linda wearing Emmett's t-shirt and what may have been his boxers, ventured out into the hallway. She smiled at the four faces staring back at her then yelled at the door, "Yeah, they're all here." She quickly looked back at the doorway which was just out of sight. "Dammit, Emmett, put some damn clothes on unless you want all my roommates and Carlisle to see your junk hanging in the wind."

"Well then get your ass back in here with my clothes," he shouted back.

She returned and shut the door behind her.

About an hour later, the house was empty except for the girls and they were all sitting in the living room waiting to see who would spill the details of their evening first.

All eyes were focused on Whitney.

"Why do I have to go first?" she whined.

"Because!" they all yelled in unison.

Tammy settled the group of women who were not only friends, but considered themselves sisters. "We just want to know -"

"If you got laid," Jess interrupted.

"If it was good," Linda added.

Sighing, Tammy added, "If it . . . if he was everything you remembered."

Whitney looked at each of her friends, her eyes filling with happy tears at the knowledge that they had stood by her, before Edward, after Edward, and now, just as they always would stand by her. She thought she was the luckiest woman in the world.

She looked at Jess. "Yes." Jess squealed in delight.

She looked at Linda. "Absolutely, yes." Linda pumped her fist and cheered.

She looked at Tammy as the first traitorous tear fell to her cheek. "Yes, oh, God, yes . . . and more, so very much more."

The four women hugged tightly, then began to share the intimate details as only good girlfriends could.

* * *

**A/N2:** This is a one shot only. It will not be expanded. That being said, I'd love to hear what you think anyways!


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